Blackout
by Cherrie Keane
Summary: After the meta-human cure takes a turn for the worst Gear and Static are the only heroes left in a fallen city. Can they save Dakota before its too late? Get ready for an EPIC MULTICHAPTERED FIC YALL.
1. Alva's Legacy

Well well WELL, what do we have here? A multi-chaptered epic of my favorite static shock hero's adventures? WHY YES, YES IT IS.

I have been WAITING to finally make something big! Be forewarned, this will be a LONG and WONDERFUL journey. But I can promise you, unless I tragically die beforehand, it WILL be finished.

Alas though, this is just the prologue and you will all have to wait to see what Richie and V are up to!

Disclaimer: Definitely don't own Static Shock or its characters. No money is made. Don't sue me. HOLLA.

* * *

Edwin Alva considered himself to be a very giving and gracious individual

Of course, the ends were never without means, but those were minor details. In truth, he had the best that money and cunning could buy; he had a successful company, a powerful hold on the city of Dakota, and though he had only been reunited with him recently, a promising son.

And an even more promising future.

The sounds of his cane and footsteps echoed across the tiles of the long hallway he found himself in. Receding in the distance were the many sounds the lab he was leaving; machines running, monitors sounding, liquid bubbling about. He encountered two security check points along the way, and after offering positive retina and fingerprint scans, he was allowed to pass through them. It seemed almost redundant, considering that he owned the scanners themselves.

But this thought was a brief flash across his mind before being replaced by a more pressing matter.

The experiment within the lab

His son.

Edwin Alva Jr's return had...changed things, to say the least. Before his son was turned to stone, Edwin Alva Sr had to admit, he had taken little interest in his only son. The boy had been timid, un-interesting, and showed no particular skills in anything other than being a typical lazy teenager.

That was, of course, before he had become the super villain 'Omnifarious' and attracted his father's attention. Even though he was using his new powers against him, Alva had to admit he was impressed by the boys resourcefulness and sheer nerve. He immediately reconsidered the opinion he held of the boy at the time, even though his son wasn't yet up to par with the skills it took to successfully fuel Alva's future operations. Those particular skills could be learned in time, now that Alva Sr. had recognized his boy's potential.

Naturally though, as the most carefully thought out ideas usually go, this had not gone according to plan. His son had been turned to stone, and it took many months to restore him to his natural state, precious time that Alva Sr. did not have.

It had been a long walk from the lab to his penthouse office. Alva was spent, mentally and physically, from his visit to his son. The boy's condition was stable, but he needed to be kept isolated from the open air until Alva had completed his plan. Edwin Alva Jr. may have been restored from stone, but he was still a meta human, and caution had to be observed with his condition.

It was detrimental to Alva's plan that his son was not effected by the toxin being administered to the rest of the city.

Alva set down his cane as he settled into the large lounge chair before his desk. The room was dark, the only light coming from a wall of windows facing the back of his chair. Outside, the city was bathed in the fiery orange light of the Dakota sunset. The orange light contrasted deeply with the long black shadows in Alva's office. He rubbed his eyes in frustration.

There were still so many things to do. He had to make sure that St. Morgans was locked down, keep feeding the media with false stories and connections, and keep public opinion of all this to a minimum. Not to mention the condition of his son, who had a limited time to learn a lifetime of skills that would be needed to face the task ahead. And of course that was without addressing Edwin Alva Sr's condition altogether.

With that he remembered a forgotten chore. His memory wasn't what it used to be.

Shaking his head, he drew a key out of his breast pocket. The second drawer to the left opened with a slight click from the key, and he fished out a bottle of pills. Just as he was fiddling with the cap of the orange prescription bottle, a female voice sounded from the intercom on his desk.

"Sir, Dr. Todd is here to see you. He says its an emergency.".A loud click sounded as she switched off the transmitter. It was Ariana, the new desk receptionist. Alva had told her time and time again not to allow unscheduled guests, but tonight...anything that caused Dr. Todd to be even slightly alarmed was reason for a brief meeting.

Though why the man couldn't call was beyond him

"Send him in. And screen all my calls for the next hour. No interruptions." Alva barked in response, slightly annoyed.

"Yes sir.". The receiver made a noise filled with static, and the room was silent once again.

Upon opening the bottle, Alva retrieved a very small white pill from its depths. He replaced the bottle, locked the drawer, and swung his chair around to face the opposite wall of windows. The city of Dakota found itself in the gray area between sunset and twilight. The sun itself was no longer visible, having long ago fallen behind the silhouette of the city skyline. But the bright colors of its demise remained, bathing the city in its last light. The sight would have been beautiful, especially from the height of his office, if Alva didn't have so much on his mind already. Just as the old man placed the pill on his tongue, a knock from a door sounded.

He was getting too old for this.

The old man smiled at the slightly clichéd thought. He gazed at the sunset a moment and thought of the soon approaching time when age would be the least of his worries. He was like the setting sun before him, glowing on until there was nothing left.

But unlike this sun, he was leaving behind a legacy

"Enter" He said loudly to the knock at the door. He heard the voice recondition security give a faint beeping noise in response, and the metal door sliding open. Footsteps crossed the threshold.

His legacy was the promise of a new morning yet to come.


	2. Lethal Injection

WELL. chapter 2. this actually was the first thing I wrote, and I wrote it forever ago, I was just afraid to post it. But I decided that since almost all the reviews I have gotten so far were really nice, I decided it was time to stop procrastinating and actually make something worth reading. So heres to you guys!

Also on a side note, remind me never to become a scientist or doctor or ANYTHING of that matter. I will surely kill someone. You'll understand this when your done reading this chapter. :)

Disclaimer: Static Shock doesn't belong to me, even though I wish it did. I am making no money from this, just having fun like all girls just wanna do. So don't sue me, kay?

* * *

"You know what Richie? I think I've changed my mind. Maybe being boring old Virgil wont be so

bad!"

"V..."

"No, I'm serious! You know, we could do normal things again! Like...uh...normal things!"

"Virg..."

"Did I mention normal things?"

"_Virgil!"_

Richie let out an exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance. His partner, Virgil, sat cowering on the other side of the worn green couch in their 'abandoned gas station of solitude', covering his forearm protectively. From his safe vantage point, Virgil glared at the two medical instruments that Richie had in his possession. An empty one on the table behind Richie, and another that his partner twisted between his fingers. The former was full of a faint lavender liquid that, to Virgil, seemed to sparkle menacingly. Richie opened his eyes, and tried, once more, to reason with his best friend.

"Virgil, its _just_ a needle. I'm sure you've taken vaccinations before! Its the same thing!" said Richie, waving the sterilized syringe about as he explained.

"Its not the needle I'm worried about, its the junk inside! What if you messed up the anti-antidote? What if we end up as freaks!" Virgil protested. He looked at the needle once more and shuddered, instinctively pressing himself farther into the arm of the couch in attempt to get as far away from the syringe as possible.

Richie raised an eyebrow.

"Well...I mean...worse freaks than before..." Virgil added thoughtfully in response to his best friends analytical look.

Richie sighed and willed himself to explain the mechanics of his homemade mutagen.

"V, I can promise you, this _will_ work! All my equations and formulas check out!" whined Richie. He didn't want to sound too annoyed, but this _was_ the third time he had tried to explain the formula that he held in his hand. Richie licked his lips and tried to explain, once again, though this time at a slightly different angle. "Why do you think I took your uniform last night?"

Oh yes, of course _that_ catches Virgil's attention.

Virgil perked up and leaned towards Richie slowly, grinning at the blond boy, "Well Richie, personally I think you just wanted to watch me--"

"Virg, be _serious_" shot Richie, loosing his patience and simultaneously feeling his cheeks grow hot. This was not the time to be mentioning Richie's debatable sexual orientation. Of course, Virgil's grin grew yet wider and Richie was suddenly over come by the need to explain himself. "I took your clothes, _and_ mine," he added for good measure "because they were covered in bang gas. I needed to get a fresh sample while I was still a super genius and find a way to duplicate it so we could get our powers back." Richie clarified. He also needed to keep the gas nearby him, so that he could actually _stay _a super genius for longer than a few hours. He didn't tell Virgil this however, in order to keep the other bang baby calm.

Virgil thought on this for a moment, looking towards the ceiling in contemplation. He then returned to earth and regarded his best friend questioningly. "But the bang gas is...well... a gas Richie! If you made more, then whats the shot for?" Virgil inquired, pointing an accusing finger at the syringe still in Richie's hand.

It was at this point that Richie looked down at the couch beneath him in disappointment. "I...couldn't actually make another bang gas." he said, more to the couch than to Virgil. The traces of the gas in their clothes wasn't enough to pick off a full, usable sample. Not within the night anyway. After all, it _was_ gas, which couldn't really be physically taken from anything. Unless you're Puff that is.

Still, Richie felt slightly crestfallen. His intelligence had never failed him before the antidote was distributed. Being unsuccessful in creating an airborne bang gas had made Richie fully appreciate how lost he was without his meta-human abilities.

Something on the opposite end of the couch moved as old springs creaked from the unevenly distributed weight. Richie felt Virgil's hand on his shoulder and looked up at the other boy. Virgil smiled.

'So, whats the shot for again?" He asked softly, pulling the other boy completely out of his dejected musings. Richie glanced up at Virgil, and answered his question.

"Well, like I said, there wasn't enough bang fumes on our clothes to make more of it," Richie paused and looked at the medical instrument in his hands briefly, and then back at Virgil. "in gas form anyway." he then smiled to himself, remembering the power of the chemical he had in his hand. "What I have here is a cure for the bang gas, only _this_ toxin is a small dosage of the original, highly concentrated gas. I turned it into a liquid solid by compressing the particl--"

"Skip the science-y stuff rich!" Virgil whined, removing his hand from Richie's shoulder and throwing it in the air in exasperation.

Richie frowned, but continued. "This version of the antidote is in a small, concentrated form, designed to go into our bloodstream and shield us from the meta-human cure _from the inside_. Our bodies will see it as a virus, create anti-bodies to fight it, and build up an immunity to it." Virgil stared at his friend blankly, and Richie, taking this as a signal that the African American boy didn't exactly understand, decided to condense his words further. " Think of it like...a vaccine against being lame humans again." Said Richie, smiling despite himself. "We take this, wait a few days for the side effects to mull-over, and then we take the real bang gas!" Richie's smile faltered for a moment before he rectified his last sentence. "...or at least, a bang gas substitute."

Virgil mirrored the bespectacled boys smile, but still raised an inquiring eyebrow. "So...two questions: First, what are these...side effects?" Said Virgil warily, glaring at the syringe still in his best friends hand.

Richie tapped the medical instrument idly, before coming up with an answer for his friend. "it depends on how our bodies react. When you took the flu vaccine, you didn't have any side effects at all."

"Yeah, if you don't think a painful shot wound and an ugly band-aid is a side effect." Virgil joked.

"You didn't have any _serious_ side effects." Richie continued. "But remember when I got it?"

Virgil didn't need to think too hard on that particular experience. Richie had been bedridden for 3 days, and Virgil wasn't allowed to see him because his father feared it was contagious. He remembered particularly though, that it had been the loneliest 3 days he had ever experienced since meeting Richie.

"Yeah, I remember." Virgil said, trying to push away the emotions that came with the memory.

Richie nodded to Virgil. "That's how this cure works. I don't know how we'll react, whether we'll get sick or not," Richie looked at the object in his hand once more. "but I do know that this dose isn't large enough to kill either of us. Its just big enough to get in, cause trouble in our bloodstreams, and force our bodies to combat it, protecting us from any other affect from further airborne _or_ bloodborne exposure." Richie finished with a significant look at Virgil towards the end.

Virgil tugged at one of his dreadlocks for a moment. The cure didn't sound _too_ bad. But it also didn't explain how either of them were going to get their powers back. Or when.

Which jump started Virgil's second question.

"Alright. So... why cant we just take the gas now?" Virgil inquired, forgetting that Richie's bang gas substitute wasn't actually a gas. Richie ignored this and simply shrugged.

"Because, even if we did, the cure is still being sprayed all over Dakota. We'd have our powers for a few hours like last night and then wake up normal." He said in a tone that one would adopt when talking about something as simple as the weather instead of a highly toxic, experimental shot.

Virgil scoffed. "I don't remember _you_ waking up normal..."

Richie looked away, and instinctively pushed his free hand in his hair.. "Because I stayed up all night working on this vaccine," he explained while absentmindedly playing with the loose strands of hair between his fingers. "which, by the way, I have been trying to get you to take for 20 minutes now." Richie added, pulling his hand out of his hair, and displaying his watch to Virgil to back up his point.

Virgil however, looked away from the watch and instead focused on the hands in his lap. His hands... The hands that weren't currently humming with electricity like they usually were.

It had been true. Last night after they had battled the Hotstreak and Ebon...thing, gear and static had went to the gas station to recharge and think of their next plans of action. The moment they returned though, Richie requested they change out of their costumes so he could inspect them. At the time, Virgil hadn't thought much of it. He replaced his costume with an orange sweatshirt and jeans and decided the stay with Richie at the gas station for the night. The last thing Virgil remembered was laying on the couch, watching the blond working away at his desk.

Then, as if in mere minutes, he woke up and found himself almost completely powerless.

Virgil knew of course, that this was easily explained. The bang gas that they had breathed in last night, while in full effect, still wasn't powerful enough to allow them to keep their powers through the night because the antidote was still lingering all over Dakota. The moment they were exposed to the bang gas, the cure was already neutralizing it and causing the limited mutagen to evaporate.

Even though he had known this fact Virgil had still woken with a start in response to the dim of his powers.

Richie seemed to sense his partner's feelings of defeat, and realized that it was his turn to put his hands on his best friends shoulders and regard him softly.

"Plus, the bang chemical that I am making isn't exactly ready yet." he said, trying his best to sound comforting.

Luckily, Virgil wasn't that difficult to please.

He perked up and looked at Richie is disbelief. "your making another bang gas?"

Richie frowned, and shook his head. Virgil observed the blond with an inquiring eyebrow raised, and Richie took that time to elaborate further. "No V. I actually don't have the resources to make another bang gas." Virgil's head fell slightly, and Richie tried to brighten up. "What I _am_ making though, is much better." he said, tapping his head in indication that the continued exposure to the fumes in their hero costumes was working. Virgil looked up, not exactly willing himself to believe that the boy genius actually had something. Richie, once catching the other boys eye, continued. "What I am making is a _bloodborne_ version of the gas." Virgil looked at Richie in what he hoped was a blank expression, conveying his feelings of confusion. If the blond noticed this, he made no indication as he continued with his commentary. "Think about it, the original meta human gas was just that, a gas! Since it was airborne, it couldn't possibly be a fully mutated substance, which meant that when it reached our systems, it was _still_ mutating. This is what caused the varied reaction times with everyone. The emergence of your powers depended on how much gas you were exposed to and how fast it mutated within your body. I mean, my powers didn't even manifest until 2 months later!" Exclaimed Richie, throwing up his hands at the last sentence.

Virgil could tell, Richie was on a roll now. The super genius put down the syringe on the table behind him and got up, pacing as he explained further.

"Whats more is that the constant mutation of that gas caused two things; First, the gas was eventually temporary. Once it reached a certain stage where it could no longer mutant, it would just dissipate completely. It depends on how much of the gas the victim was introduced to in the beginning. Second is that, with the mutations, the victim of the gas would also mutate with it. Did you ever noticed how, after the bang, Hotstreak just kept getting more insane? Or how you never lost your temper before you became static?" Virgil's eyes widened for a moment in slight offense, but Richie took no notice. "Its because the gas was still mutating, causing the changes in our bodies to affect other areas, which is also why we both got stronger as time went on. Who _knows _how long the gas could have gone on like that! It could have been months! Most likely years since its already been about a year since you became static anyway." Said Richie, still pacing, and mostly talking to himself even though he addressed Virgil.

At this point though, Virgil was completely lost.. Richie looked up hopefully for some confirmation that Virgil had understood.

"I don't loose my temper _that_ much." said Virgil in brief defense. Richie sighed, knowing that only a quarter of what he just explained had gotten through to his partner. He walked to the couch, and sat back down next to his friend and tried to continue slowly.

'Basically V, what I'm making is a bloodborne version of the bang gas. Before I give you the cure vaccine, and before you lose the rest of your charge, I'll need to take a blood sample. I already took some of mine." He said, looking down briefly at his forearm. There Virgil could see a red patch of skin covered by a children's 'teenage mutant ninja turtles' band-aid. "With samples of both of our blood before we essentially cure ourselves, I can combine it with the leftover gas and make a serum for both of us." Virgil looked nervously at the empty syringe and the full one on the table behind Richie. The boy genius however, kept on with his explanation."After we build an immunity against the antidote, I'll take the un-immune blood from today, introduce it to the gas, and make a...a virus from it. We'll be immune to the antidote, but the bang virus I'm going to make will also be in full effect, as long as I use blood from before the vaccine. If the bang virus is bloodborne, that means its in its completed form, no further mutations." said Richie without looking at his friend. Virgil said nothing, and for safe measure, Richie dedicated to divulge a little more of his plan. "I've got our costumes in the compressor unit so they wont lose any of the bang gas now, but I know they wont last forever. We need to do this within the week Virg."

Virgil shifted uncomfortably next to Richie. He had really only understood a little of what the bespectacled boy had been saying. However, after a slight pause, he addressed the boy next to him critically. 'Bro, that sounds mad dangerous"

Richie closed his eyes briefly before answering. "It is."

Virgil's heartbeat faltered for a moment.

So it came down to this. Virgil had already lost his power, and Richie was forced to keep their costumes in an air-tight compartment so he could actually have the intelligence to _make_ this possibly fatal virus, just so they both could have their meta-human abilities again.

"_yet," _thought Virgil, _"we wouldn't _be_ meta-humans anymore, now would we?"_

The thought of not technically being meta-humans, of being something...else, scared Virgil. Somewhere between memorizing '28 weeks later' and 'I am legend' made him realize that this virus could go horribly, _horribly _wrong_._ If fate found it appropriate, dying could be the least of either Virgil or Richie's problems.

Virgil bit down on his lower lip before looking at his partner once again.

"Richie, are you sure you want to do this?" He asked gravely. He stared into the side of Richie's face as the other bang baby stared down at his knees. Something flashed in Richie's brown eyes as Virgil spoke. "We...we could be normal again you know. We could be..." Virgil swallowed "just Virgil and Richie again." Richie didn't move, and Virgil looked down at the floor along with his partner.

For a instant, both boys seemed to get lost in the calm space of the gas station, simply admiring the moment in which they found themselves. It was early morning. The sun was lazily moving away from the eastern horizon, bathing the gas station in a orange glow. Virgil was sure that his pops would want to know where he was. Though his father knew of their secret identities, Virgil still didn't think that was enough of an excuse to stay out all night. And he knew that Richie's parent's attitudes toward their sons absence, though they still had no idea that Virgil and Richie were actually Static and Gear, would be even worse. Virgil could Already imagine Mr. Foley blaming him for his sons all-nighter.

Still, as they sat on the old, worn-out couch and stared ahead of them, neither of them really _looking_ at anything, they both felt slightly detached from these worries and responsibilities. Richie Foley and Virgil Hawkins were much more focused on the task at hand.

Virgil for one, despite his fear of needles and further mutation, still wanted the possibly deadly dose of the mutagenic virus. When he had woken up that morning, only to be reminded of his lack of an electrical charge, he felt helpless and incomplete. For the past year, his life had, for the most part, centered around his alter ego, Static Shock. In time, he had come to realize that this was _who he was_. Virgil Hawkins had never truly been complete until the day that he stupidly wandered onto those docks the night the big bang happened. It took him loosing his powers to realize that he couldn't imagine a life without his ability to power an entire city. The thought of a life as an average human after what he had already been was...upsetting to say the least.

Richie thought more or less the same thing. True, though his powers weren't as flashy as Virgil's, they were still practical and useful. Before, he had simply been Richie Foley, an average boy, with an average intelligence, and a generally boring life, save for his super hero best friend. Once he had become gear however, everything obviously changed. He found purpose with his life. He was constantly inspired and motivated to create, to build, and to help his friend and partner protect Dakota. Richie loved being a superhero.

But Richie also knew how dangerous his idea was. Virgil, who actually possessed an average intelligence, couldn't possibly know the horrific things in store for the both of them if the virus somehow went wrong. Richie knew he would have to test it before administering it to either Virgil or himself, but his thought process still shifted with discomfort at the idea of introducing his body to a homemade virus. Even as the final traces of his unnatural intelligence slipped away in the morning sun, Richie could still feel his super brain calculate the odds of this experiment failing to damage their lives forever, if not killing both of them.

Surprisingly, the odds weren't too bad.

Richie looked over at his friend, partner, ally, and basic reason for breathing, and smiled.

"Virgil, if your down with this, then so am I."

Virgil looked up from his thoughts and stared at his friend. Even if this virus was possibly dangerous, even if it was all just to get their powers back, and even if this whole thing went horribly, and irreversibly wrong...

Virgil couldn't imagine wanting to risk it all with a better purpose, or a better person.

"Bro, you _know_ I'm down with this." Said Virgil, grinning as he extended his arm in silent permission.


End file.
